Fallen Demons
by essence007
Summary: One-shots for Bleach. *ChapterTWO is UP* Grimmjow stumbles on a small, blue-gray kitten. Orihime, of course, thinks he's the cutest thing in the world. What follows? Disaster for Grimm. Grimmhime.
1. Gravity

(BleachTite Kubo)

My first Bleach one-shot. Might make more, dunno yet. If I get inspired, I'll write 'em up and see what happens.

Episode 167 was amazing to say the least. I won't spoil too much, and I deleated a lot of the obvious ones.

Well, introducing my favorite Bleach character

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

* * *

Gravity. The ground was pulling itself to him, making him fall to the ground. Even unconscious, he could still sense the wind slicing past him. Did he have wings? Would he crash? He didn't know. The darkness of a dream state engulfed him, leaving him at the mercy of Mother Earth.

_How…did it end…like this?_

Blood had flooded from his chest, jagged cuts all hanging in different directions. Sword cuts. They had pierced his armor, that so-called impenetrable armor.

_I…was…supposed…_

Hardly breathing, mouth agape; it was difficult to believe he was still alive.

_To be…the…king…_

Grimmjow's mind swept over past memories, some long forgotten and some not. He had been a Hollow, enjoying the peace of eating his brethren, growing stronger by the day. Fast and full of hate he had been, and he had loved every minute of it. Several Hollows had flocked to him, asking for a leader. As the old saying goes, he who gains everything receives power. Grimmjow couldn't turn away power. He was too greedy for that.

_Kuso…shit!_

Life was draining from him; breathing was harder, moving was slower. But…how had he managed to survive his fall?

Grimmjow didn't dare wake up when he was this injured. Dreaming was living, as far as he knew. As long as he slept, he would live a little longer. While he dreamed, he came to one conclusion.

_Kurosaki…that bastard…_

He had fallen, and the last thing his jade eyes had seen was a fake blue sky. Gravity had taken over from there, and he had lost control. No power to save him, no reiatsu to break his descent. It had to have been the shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo. The strawberry child had grabbed him at the last minute.

_But…why…_

No explanation came to him. Why did the soul reaper think that an espada had to be saved? Did he do it out of respect? Grimmjow gritted his teeth. The black of an unknown world continued to blanket him, keeping him cold and dead to outsiders. Blood steadily flowed from him, and into the open air.

_Am I really…going to die…here? In this…place?_

Grimmjow knew he had begun to pity himself. It was the result of a weak heart, a weak life. He had lived as a Hollow for so long. Why was he so hurt, hurt at his heart, for dying? Even the pain of his injuries had subsided. Now, Grimmjow only felt angst for failing so quickly. He pounded the ground in his colorless dream world. He howled to the moon, the stars, anything he could think of. It had all caved in on him. The oath he had first made, to be the King, was now destroyed.

He could still remember when he was a Menos Hollow, flying through Hueco Mundo at a moment's notice. Four paws, a whip-like tail, and grinding teeth. That was what he had been, a panther Hollow, free to live his life. Eating and surviving had been his only concerns at the time. Until, he had become an arrancar, pulling away the mask that had detained him for so long. That was when soul reapers had arrived, pulling the arrancar together, forming an army. The power of humans, souls, and hollows was now theirs for the taking.

But so many things had gotten in the way. Aizen, the former captain who now led this damned place, had given him a job within his ranks. With the promise of even more power, Grimmjow accepted. He couldn't turn down such a wonderful offer. As soon as he became an Espada, other hollow began to follow him, listen to him, worship him. Power hungry as he was, Grimmjow still kept his distance from his so-called leader.

_Now…I'm…I'm going to…_

Then Kurosaki's gang had arrived, taking out one arrancar after another. The humans suffered for it, yes, but they were still crunching Hueco Mundo's defenses. And Grimmjow knew what motivated them so.

_That woman…_

Long, red tendrils of hair, an ample chest, and a light frame described Kurosaki's female. Her eyes had disturbed Grimmjow so many times. Determined, sad, but never frightened. Not even when he threatened her. He hated the ones who stood up to him; Kurosaki especially. But she -the one they were trying to rescue- she had so much drive. In a way, it was admirable.

He remembered walking in on the woman and Ulquiorra. Grimmjow despised his fellow espada with a vengeance, and the pale-faced one before him had topped the list. The woman was lying on the floor, staring at the drab carpet she was on. Ulquiorra towered over her, his eyes emotionless. For a reason he didn't know, Grimmjow had hated seeing him with her. After he had walked way, that feeling treaded after him. Why had he felt that way? Ulquiorra had always managed to piss him off, but what did the woman have to do with it? What had she done to him?

She had hooked him, with those soft eyes, fragile skin. Kurosaki's or not, Grimmjow loathed the human woman, eyeing her wherever she went and hating himself for what he thought of her. Light within the darkness, he once said.

_No…not ever…_

Wasted time was that woman. He hated her, with every fiber of his being. He hated Ulquiorra for standing him up so many times. He hated Kurosaki for defeating him during this battle. Anyone who claimed those pitying eyes, and looked down on him was deserving of his hate.

_They will…all…die…_

Grimmjow coughed imaginary blood, and wondered if he had done the same in the real world. Life was no longer a luxury for the arrancar. He had failed his duties. He had been severely wounded in the midst of a battle he'd sworn to win. If he survived, and the battle between the Soul Society and Las Noches was decided, how would the other Espada look at him? He would be the failed experiment, the failed Hollow. Doomed he would be, to eternal embarrassment and explicit annoyances. Everyday he'd be haunted by their laughs, their pitying faces. Grimmjow couldn't bare it. He never would. He had to live, make it through another battle. He'd fought and killed so many others. Kurosaki would be the same.

Grunting, rolling, Grimmjow gradually came to. A white flash reverted him to his human form, his clothes ripped, blood and scars abounding.

This was not the end, for the delectable Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.


	2. Panther Blues

Here's another one-shot that is very Grimmhime-centric. I posted it on my livejournal first, but we'll see how it goes. I hope I get some good responses on both sites. :3

Anyway, I've been working on this particular story for about two weeks. At first I only had the beginning paragraphs done, but a few days ago I wrote the rest within a few hours. I was pretty proud of myself. beams

This is based loosely on a picture by the artist RAE at . Grimm and Hime are in the middle of a rainstorm with Orihime holding an umbrella, and Grimm holding a kitten. This is my take on that picture. It was sooo cute, so the story was born almost immediately. Let's hope Grimmjow isn't too OOC.

BleachTite Kubo

* * *

Panther Blues

It mewed at him softly; a sweet sound that resembled music. The fur on its back was extra smooth, covering its whole body with silk. Large green eyes gawked at him and its gray-blue ears perked up when he spoke:

"The hell's this thing?"

Grimmjow looked at the animal with curiosity. It was nothing like he'd ever seen before; a whole new type of species. He craned his neck under, around, and over the tiny animal's body, behaving like an oversized puppy searching for its treat.

Covered heavily in garbage, the alley Grimmjow was in had suffered years of abuse. Litter bugs of all kinds had passed through here, leaving their refuse as a memento. The colorful graffiti gave it an artsy charm but the stench was nearly unbearable. A ways down, the air ducts of businesses and restaurants steamed, creating a heavy fog. Even further down, the alley dead-ended, leaving nothing but brick-covered darkness. The shadows had attracted Grimmjow, so he had walked in. This tiny, furry discovery had been hiding behind a trash can and interrupted his stroll.

"Stop looking at me," he said, but of course, the creature didn't understand. In fact, it did the complete opposite. Its stomach purred like an engine while it rubbed its glossy fur against his ankles, tail flying high.

"Ugh." Disgusted, Grimmjow shoved the animal away, excess hair covering his pant-legs. But the little guy was persistent; regardless of Grimmjow's attitude, it came right back to him, purring its heart out.

"'Hime!" _Where the hell's that chick when I need her?_ _Stupid little furball,_ thought Grimmjow. He started walking away, but the animal walked with him. Vaguely he heard its small feet pitter-patter against the cement. Even more annoying was the rumbling sound it was making; it made his ears itch. Irritated, Grimmjow spun around, grabbed the creature, and yelled, "Die furball!"

"Don't even think about it, Grimm!"

Orihime Inoue caught Grimmjow before he could snap the animal's body in half. Her curved frame was silhouetted at the alley's entrance, outlined by the sun's light. The bouncy redhead looked disappointed, saying, "I thought you were done killing innocent creatures, Grimm."

"The frickin' thing was getting on my nerves!" he complained. Dangling it by the scruff of its neck, he pointed at it accusingly. Despite being in mortal peril, the creature's purring continued. "It's making this really freaky noise and won't fuck off!"

"Grimmjow! It's just a baby; kittens are defenseless when they're like this."

"Kitten? That what it's called?" Orihime nodded. She held her hands out, afraid for the little animal's life. Grimmjow dropped it in her hands. She grinned happily and he looked relieved.

"Whatcha gonna do with it?" he asked, curious.

Orihime held the kitten against her cheek, letting it explore her skin. She giggled when it licked her. "Probably take him to the shelter. He doesn't have a collar, so he needs a home."

"Just leave it here. It's not like anyone cares." It was then Grimmjow noticed all the hair the animal had left on his clothes. Designer jeans, a ruffled navy button-up, and a white undershirt were now covered in blue kitten fur. "Jeez," he mumbled to no one in particular, "Stupid thing can't keep its crap to itself…" He promptly began the tedious task of wiping it off, ignoring the look of frustration on Orihime's face.

"I am not leaving a helpless kitten on the streets, Grimmjow," she said defiantly.

…_Shit._ He knew that tone of Orihime's, one that told him her mind was made up. He straightened, staring down at her petite figure. The fourteen inch difference between their heights didn't intimidate her in the least. Her brow furrowed and her expression was blunt – even her posture was indifferent to his opinion. Grimmjow knew there was no turning Orihime's decision into one that favored him.

Stomping and grumbling, Grimmjow exited the alley with his fists stuffed inside his pockets. "Frickin' furball…messin' with my day…no time for this…stupid, stupid!"

_Oh Grimmjow; it's not life or death._ Orihime considered saying this out loud, but she was smart enough to avoid Grimmjow's anger. It was easy to make him mad and she honestly didn't feel like doing so today.

In her hands, the kitten mewed. Like a mother with her child, Orihime hugged the kitten tightly, not sure if she ever wanted to let go. Following Grimmjow, she stepped away from the darkness of the alley and into the sunshine of midday.

_Later…_

"I'm sorry miss; we don't have enough room for another kitten."

"Are you sure?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

Grimmjow smacked his forehead dramatically. He'd just started to relax on one of the few benches the shelter had to offer when the bad news was delivered. As his personality suggested, Grimmjow hated bad news.

"No, I'm very sorry. We just recently had an entire litter brought to us so we've gone beyond our quota already."

But Orihime continued: "You're certain you can't take one more? We found this one in an alley here in town. He had no collar, so we thought he might be a stray." Setting the kitten on the bland counter, the shelter owner examined him.

"Yes," he said, turning the kitten round and round for a 360 degree view. "He could definitely use a home. He's got several scars; possibly from fights. You see this notch in his ear? That's not normal. Another cat probably got him once, or maybe even a dog."

"So can you help him?"

"I really can't miss. Like I said, we're full." He picked the kitten up and gave him back to Orihime, making his statement final. "Again, I'm really sorry." Without another word, the shop owner escaped to the back of his shelter through a swinging door, leaving Orihime with a destitute kitten.

Holding the tiny animal, she immediately felt sorry for him. She wasn't exactly sure what to do with him. She could never leave him all alone back in that alley. And there was no way Grimmjow would ever consent to keep him with them, so that was out of the question. However, if she could get in touch with one of her old friends, maybe they'd be willing to take him in.

"Lemme guess," Grimmjow said, his large fingers massaging away a mock headache. "We've got a new pet?"

"No Grimm, I know you don't want a pet," Orihime said sadly.

"I told you we shoulda just left him," he replied nonchalantly.

"And I told you that I wasn't going to leave him. I'll just ask Ichigo-"

"What?" Grimmjow jumped out of his seat, taken aback by a name he'd rather forget. "No! I don't think so. I'm not going anywhere near that mother fu-"

"Don't call him that!" Orihime yelled back. Startled, it took Grimmjow a moment to come around. When he did, he was pissed.

"Listen, you…" But he stopped. He'd forgotten they were in a public place. Eyeing the door, he made the 'come here' gesture with his pointer finger. Orihime followed reluctantly. The kitten, luckily, had fallen asleep in her arms.

It was a long while before Grimmjow finally stopped walking. All the while, Orihime had been dreading a lecture. When he was mad, she usually stayed out of his way, but sometimes there was no avoiding it.

Oddly, Grimmjow had brought them to the bridge of a river outside of town. The combination of greenery, running water, and gravity seemed to calm him down a little. There was also the convenient goal of privacy. Not a single soul besides them occupied the surrounding space. Here he could yell all he wanted.

He rested against the aged bricks, his back to the river. "I'm not going anywhere near him, 'Hime," he said, surprisingly calm.

Underneath the darkening sky, the pair stood close enough to touch. Joining Grimmjow at the edge of the bridge wall, Orihime leaned over and watched the water flow. The kitten stirred against her, but quickly cuddled back into a comfortable position. A white lily floated by, passing under the bridge and continuing its mysterious journey. The wind itself sang a whistling song in their ears.

"If I saw just his face, I'd kill him. You know that better than anybody."

The edge in Grimmjow's voice made Orihime take her eyes off the river and try to get his attention. His concentration, however, was on the skies. A distant rumble of thunder and a spark of lightening woke up the heavens, bringing rain in their wake. "…We don't have to, Grimm. I can always ask someone else."

His expression didn't change. The entire atmosphere had become depressing, filled with humidity and gloomy memories. Another crackle of thunder sounded, this time closer and louder.

_Screw you Kurosaki. You and you're stupid friends fucked with my body, my life. Everything changed because of you. Heh, I guess I should thank you for killin' off Aizen. Damn, even that prick Ulquiorra's rotting in hell 'cause of you. But you still fucked me up, even knocked me off my throne._

_And the worst part is? You saved my half-assed life – I'll never forgive you for that._

Detached from the real world, Grimmjow caressed the peak of his old scar. It ranged from his collar bone all the way to his opposite hip. No matter what he tried, it had never truly gone away. Forever it would remain as a reminder of the cold, not-so-long-ago past.

"There's rain coming," Orihime said, unintentionally breaking off his thoughts. The kitten was now upright, woken by the sound of the storm. It started mewing again, trying to get closer to Orihime's chest. She held it lovingly while Grimmjow watched the sky.

"Better get an umbrella," he said unexpectedly. Curious, Orihime gazed at the scenery all around her only to see a vendor far down the road. Of the multitude of things on his sales cart, one of the items he carried was plain, monotonous umbrellas.

Orihime smiled to herself at Grimmjow's intuition. _He may be prideful sometimes, but every now and then, he just knows things._

"Of course." But before she took off, an idea lit up in her head. "Will you hold him for a second?" She gestured at the wide-eyed kitten in her palm, looking as adorable as possible.

"No frickin' way."

"Please, Grimm? I don't want to scare him." She didn't wait for him to answer, but instead pushed the kitten into his arms. Running, she yelled, "I'll be right back!"

"No, wai-! Damn it, 'Hime!" _You're gonna kill me one day, woman!_ He screamed in his mind. Grimmjow immediately stretched his long arms out as far away from the creature as possible. Desperately he tried to ignore its gaze, but he couldn't hold out for long. Now that he looked at it, the kitten seemed so small compared to his oversized hands. With just his thumb Grimmjow could feel its heart beating. Through the paper-thin skin and petite ribs, the kitten's heart kept it alive. Its soul kept it tied to this world, but its heart was what kept the tiny body thriving. Grimmjow didn't have much of a heart, but there were other things that kept his body alive…

He slowly, gradually, brought the kitten to his chest. As he did so, it began to purr again, louder than before. It rubbed against him and then curled into a tight ball, causing Grimmjow to force down an unpredicted grin.

"…Stupid furball…"

"Wasn't too hard, was it?" Orihime asked, back with a dull, fog-colored umbrella. Even she was surprised that her technique had worked.

"Nah, I guess not…No! What the hell am I doing?!"

"Grimmjow, it's not like anyone's going to see you. Don't worry about it."

"But this touchy-feely crap ain't me!" For a moment, Grimmjow was disgusted again. Of all the things a killer like him was doing, he was holding a kitten. He had a sudden, heartless urge to throw the creature into the river but by gently touching his upper arm, Orihime warped his thoughts completely. She hadn't touched him like that in so long. In fact, he rarely allowed her such a pleasure. She had never even tried to touch him without permission until now. Electricity from her delicate fingers shocked his system. Fittingly, it was then that he remembered that she was one of those things that kept him alive. Even if he yelled at her, screamed at her, hit her, or beat on her, she always came back to him. He never understood why she did it, but the look she gave him now reassured him of her devotion. He didn't want that look to ever go away.

"…I won't tell anyone," she whispered before looking away, embarrassed and disconcerted. Grimmjow had let her touch him; it was hopeful, yet frightening. He'd always had complete control over her body and he'd outlawed any sort of touching from her. In the back of her mind, she hoped it was a new stage for the two of them. On the other hand, forgetting it ever happened would probably be much better.

Thunder sounded and a curtain of rain washed over them. It destroyed any moment that they'd had and Orihime quickly raised the umbrella. It was bigger than she thought so it sheltered them both but she still had to stand on tip-toe to reach Grimmjow's height.

They silently headed back to town with the rain providing the perfect escape. Grimmjow still held the kitten but kept it at a distance.

"So," said Orihime, halfway to her house. "What're you going to call him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, we can't exactly hand him over to someone _today_," she said, gesturing at the rain. "So he'll have to stay with us for a little while."

"'Hime, he's a frickin' furball. I'm not calling him anything else."

"And I'm not calling him 'kitten', either. It's just for one night, Grimm. Pick something."

"No. If we start calling him names, we get attached. We get attached, he'll never leave. I'm not keeping a damned pet!"

"Pick something, Grimm."

"No!"

"Please?" Orihime's eyes pleaded with him. He, however, rolled his in the back of his head. She could do that to him, sometimes.

"…Furball, alright?"

She laughed. "Furball it is."

End

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**A/N:** Hope you liked everyone!


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